Anniversary
by Jenksel
Summary: It's the first anniversary of Cassandra and Jenkins's Sealing. Fluff ensues.


Jenkins sucked in a deep, sharp breath and sat up in the bed as he started awake. Disoriented, he looked around the room for a few seconds trying to see something, anything, in the complete darkness. As his breathing and thumping heart settled back to a normal rhythm, he felt Cassandra stir next to him as she rolled over to face him without awakening. That was when he suddenly became aware of the dull throb in his groin, and realized that he had full-on erection. He then remembered: He'd been dreaming of himself and Cassandra, the two of them locked together in the throes of some particularly impassioned lovemaking. He grinned in the dark, disappointed to have woken up before things "reached their climax", so to speak, but at the same time grateful that he had; it might've been a little awkward trying to explain the soiled bedsheets the next morning. He thought briefly of waking Cassandra up and…

But no, that would be selfish of him. _Perhaps in the morning, when she wakes up_ , he consoled himself.

With a sigh of regret, Jenkins carefully got out of the large bed and slipped into his robe and slippers. He made sure the blankets were tucked snugly around his sleeping wife, then quietly crossed the bedroom to go into his sitting room, easing the heavy door closed behind him as he turned on the lights.

He went over to the fireplace and dropped onto the sofa, his silver head falling against its back. He closed his eyes, debating with himself about whether or not he wanted to go down to the kitchen for some tea when there was tentative knocking on the door.

"Jenkins?" Cassandra muttered groggily, blinking against the lights as she poked her red head into the room. "What're you dong in here? Is everything okay?" The immortal raised his head and turned to look at her.

"It's nothing, my dear; I'm sorry for waking you," he said, reaching out a hand to invite her to come and sit with him. His young wife went over and plopped down next to him, tucking her bare legs beneath his pajama top that she had worn to bed and laying her head on his upper arm.

"You had another nightmare, didn't you?" she accused, awake now, and worried. "What was it about? The Trial of the One again?" She was surprised to hear him chuckle.

"No, no, nothing like that, my dear, not this time," he answered lightly. "Just a regular, garden-variety dream, though perhaps a bit…naughty." Cassandra hesitated a moment, not sure if he was telling the truth or just trying to protect her from something.

"What was it about?" she decided to ask. She felt him lean away from her, but only long enough to allow him to place his arm around her.

"You know that science-fiction program we've been watching together lately?" he asked. "What's it called again…?"

"'Babylon 5'," she replied. Jenkins nodded.

"Yes, 'Babylon 5'," he repeated, with a hint of studied disdain in his voice. "I think that the combination of 'Babylon 5' and kung pao chicken did not mix very well for me this evening."

"Wait, you really did have a _naughty_ dream? About _Babylon 5_?" Cassandra asked, snickering, relieved that his dream wasn't anything as dreadful as she had feared. "Okay, now you _have_ to tell me what it was about!"

"Well, I dreamt that I was one of those aliens—the ones with the odd hair," he began, smiling and waving his free hand over the top of his head to indicate a fan shape. "The cultured, well-dressed ones. What are they called?"

"You mean the Centauri?" she offered, and Jenkins lightly snapped his fingers in agreement.

"Yes, that's it! I dreamt that I was a Centauri nobleman." The Librarian laughed outright at the image that instantly formed in her mind of Jenkins, tall and haughty in a smart, quasi-Eighteenth Century suit of clothes, his thick silver hair styled into a high, stiff, fan-like crest over his head like a partial halo. She had to admit that he would make an _excellent_ Centauri.

"And I wasn't the only one there," he said. "Mr. Carsen was the captain, I believe. Colonel Baird took the place of the Russian woman. Mr. Stone was the Security Officer—Mr. Garibaldi, I think his name was? Yes, and Mr. Jones was rather aptly cast as a shifty-eyed sneak thief from the lower levels somewhere."

"The Down Below," Cassandra supplied automatically. "Babylon 5" had been a secret obsession of hers when she was a teenager, and she knew the program inside and out. It had been one of the few escapes she had from the relentless grind of study and academic competition that made up her childhood. Her parents disapproved of it, of course, deeming it nothing more than a complete waste of her time and energy.

But the show had debuted just after her tumor was diagnosed, and it quickly became a haven for the overwhelmed girl. She had to watch the show behind her parents' backs, when she was supposed to be studying; if they'd caught her she would've gotten holy hell for it, but she didn't care. She eagerly looked forward to each and every episode, each one a much-cherished respite from the study on one hand, the now-frequent visits to the hospital and the terrifying prognosis she had yet to come to terms with. She'd fallen in love with the stories and the characters, all of whom had struggles that they were somehow able to rise above with courage, dignity and grace—even those struggles that had ended in death. She found a great deal of comfort and encouragement in them.

So when "Babylon 5" began airing in syndication recently, she excitedly dragged a reluctant Jenkins to the Library's theater to watch it with her every evening, eager to share her beloved program with her husband. Jenkins indulged her, much as he did with her Hallmark movie addiction, though he would never admit that he had quickly become just as enthralled with the space opera as his wife was.

"And what were you doing on Babylon 5? Was I there, too?" she asked, intrigued now.

"Yes, indeed!" he confirmed, turning to look at her as he warmed up to his story. "You, my love, were to be my new bride by an arranged marriage—a princess from another race of aliens who were telepathic or some such thing. Our marriage was supposed to cement an alliance between our two peoples. But we had never met before, and so I was waiting very anxiously for you to arrive at the space station." Cassandra grinned and snuggled up to her husband, face upturned, her chin propped on his shoulder.

"And when we finally did meet, did you think I was pretty?" she asked, running the fingers of one hand through the white hair at the back of his head, making his scalp tingle pleasantly. Jenkins tightened his arm around her and smiled.

"You were absolutely breathtaking!" he said fervently, looking into her deep blue eyes. "And after the marriage ceremony, I couldn't _wait_ to get you back to our bridal suite and ravish you!" He gave a lusty growl as he stole a kiss from his wife. Cassandra gave a loud snort of laughter, and Jenkins raised a questioning eyebrow.

"What's so funny?" he asked.

"That wedding night probably didn't go as well as you think!" she replied. "Centauri male genitalia consist of six, tentacle-like penises located on their torsos, three to a side, and they're supposed to fit into six corresponding tube-like receptors located in the lower back of the females. There's no guarantee that our 'naughty bits' even fit together right!" Jenkins pulled back from her and stared, his face registering a mixture of shock and disgust.

"You're kidding me!" he gasped. Cassandra shook her head sagely.

"Nope! It's all true!" she said crisply. " _And_ , Centauri penises are semi-prehensile!" Her husband's mouth fell open.

"You're making that up!" he accused her.

"I can google it and show you if you don't believe me," she answered confidently.

" _Ugh_! What sane person could even think of something like that?!" he said in disbelief and shuddered, waving a hand in agitation. "That sounds…positively… _Lovecraftian_!" Cassandra nestled back against his body and Jenkins automatically replaced his arm around her.

"Let's just skip that part, then, okay? Tell me what I was wearing!" she asked curiously.

"You were wearing the same thing you had on when we were Sealed," he said, eyes shining happily as he gladly shoved the disturbing image of Centauri intimacy from his mind. Cassandra gasped and pulled back from his embrace again.

"But…I wasn't wearing anything but a _bathrobe_ when we were Sealed!" she exclaimed in horror, staring at him. "And my hair was a stringy, greasy mess! I didn't even have any slippers on or anything, and I had a big, gross hole in my shoulder where the unicorn stabbed me! I showed up in public looking like _that_?! Oh, my God! Even if it _was_ just a dream, couldn't I have at least been wearing my wedding gown?!" The gentle smile on Jenkins's face only grew wider at her dismayed outburst. He pulled her back into his arms and held her close, chuckling and burying his nose in her long red hair.

"Let me tell you a little secret, my dear: As beautiful as you were on our wedding day, you'll _never_ be more beautiful to me than you were on the day of our Sealing," he rumbled lovingly above her ear. "Besides, if I recall correctly, that bathrobe didn't stay on for very long after we were Sealed anyway."

Cassandra giggled and blushed at the memory of the amazing sex they'd shared beneath their Tree that day. Jenkins, charmed by her reaction, hugged her closer and began to lie back on the sofa, taking her with him. She settled herself on top of him, her legs entwining with his as he stretched them out along the length of the soft leather sofa. The immortal held his young wife close as they relaxed into the cushions. Cassandra sighed contentedly as she laid her cheek against the warm, bare skin of his chest where his robe didn't quite close.

"I can't believe that tomorrow it'll have been a year already," she murmured dreamily. "It seems like it all happened just last week!" Her husband grunted softly in agreement.

"Indeed," he answered. He said nothing else for a few moments, then she heard him take a deep, hesitant breath. "If you had it all to do over again, Cassandra, would you? I mean—if, from the very first moment you set foot in the Annex while knowing _everything_ about me that you do now—would you still have wanted to be with me?" He tried to make his question sound nonchalant, but the young woman could hear the tiny note of fear in her husband's voice.

"Of course I would!" she answered with no hesitation, turning her face to his. "What kind of a silly question is that?"

"I know I'm not exactly every woman's idea of the perfect man," he said. "I know I haven't exactly been the _easiest_ person to get to know, or to get along with, sometimes. Any good looks I may have possessed are _long_ behind me now. Call it an old man's insecurity, I suppose, but sometimes I wonder, if you had things to do over again if maybe you wouldn't..."

"Stop it, Jenkins!" she snapped, fixing him with a stern look. "I wish you'd stop saying such negative things about yourself! _I_ think you're perfect, and _I_ think you're the perfect man for me!" She turned her head back and laid it on his chest again, his heart thundering in her ear.

"Like you keep telling me, we're Sealed now, so I'm not going anywhere, _ever_ ," she murmured. "Just face it, sweetie—you're stuck with me!" She heard Jenkins take a deep breath and felt his hand rubbing her back slowly.

"Forgive me, Cassandra," he said. "I guess that, even now, after everything we've been through and shared, I have a hard time believing that a woman as beautiful and exciting as you would voluntarily tie herself to an old goat like me."

"I love you!" she replied, almost defiantly.

"And I love you," he replied at once. He was quiet for a moment, then spoke with a tone that somehow managed to be light and serious at the same time.

"I'll make a deal with you, Cassandra: _I'll_ stop questioning your love for me if _you_ stop questioning my sincerity when I tell you that I am content to never have children with you," he said, bringing up another small of bone of contention that periodically cropped up between them. "What do you say?" Cassandra turned her head to face him and smiled gently.

"I think that's a deal I can live with," she said, and Jenkins smiled with satisfaction.

"Excellent!" he said brightly. "Done and done, then! We shall speak no more of either topic again!" They lay quietly for a few minutes, Jenkins absently stroking her hair, each lost in their own thoughts. Cassandra, lulled by the beating of his heart, was drifting off to sleep when Jenkins's voice suddenly brought her back to wakefulness.

"What shall we do for our anniversary?" he asked. "Is there anything special you'd like to do?" He felt her smile against his skin.

"Well..." she said, then hesitated.

"What?" he encouraged her. "Anything you like, my dear, you have only to name it." Cassandra took a breath.

"I'd like for us to just spend the day together," she said, the words tumbling out quickly before she lost her nerve. "Like, just spend the whole day together talking, or taking a walk or watching silly movies together! And go on a picnic, underneath our Tree! You know—just _be_ together! If…if that's all right with you?" Jenkins cocked his head in surprise.

"Well, of course that's all right with me, my love—perfectly all right," he answered. "Is that all you'd like? No trip to some exotic locale? No dinner on the French Riviera? No dancing the night away in Buenos Aires?" Cassandra shook her head.

"Nope. I just want to spend the day with _you_ ," she repeated. "Some things money just can't buy, and spending time with you is worth more to me than all the money in the world! Besides…" She hesitated.

"Besides?" Jenkins prodded gently, and his wife took a quick breath.

"And besides—I'm starting to worry about all of the money you're spending on me," she confessed, refusing to look up at him as she spoke. "I mean, it's not that I don't appreciate it or anything like that, or that I don't appreciate the gifts you give me, 'cause I _do_! I just…I just don't want you to waste all of your money on me." Jenkins sat upright again, abruptly forcing Cassandra to do the same. She glanced at him, then, embarrassed, she turned her eyes to her hands in her lap. He reached out and placed two long fingers under her chin and gently turned her face back to his.

"First of all, my dear, as far as I'm concerned not a single penny I spend on you is _ever_ wasted," he said soberly. "And secondly, where is all of this coming from? Why are you so concerned about how much is being spent?" Cassandra took his hand in hers and squeezed it.

"I just don't want you to think that I _expect_ material things from you," she said. "Like I said, the trips and the hotels and the gifts—you spoil me rotten, and I _do_ appreciate that. But I don't want you to think that I'm turning into a gold-digger, or that I only measure your love for me by the amount of gifts you give me or how expensive they are!" Upon hearing her words, a realization suddenly came to the Immortal.

"Is that why you asked to keep your own bank account after we married, rather than have a joint account with me?" he asked, careful to keep his tone of voice non-accusatory. Cassandra nodded her head. Her request had puzzled him at the time she asked him, but he'd readily agreed to her request. He'd merely assumed it was simply how things were done nowadays and thought no more about it. Now he understood.

"Cassandra, let me ask you something," he said, looking at her intently. "Do you know how much money I have?" She blinked at him, taken aback by the blunt question.

"Well...no," she said timidly, shaking her head. "But I just figured you have a lot—I mean, you have all those expensive suits and shoes and everything, accessories..." Her voice faded into silence as Jenkins chuckled.

"Indeed," he said. "Fine clothing has always been my one vice, I'm afraid. But not even I have been able to spend _all_ of my money on clothes. Would you like to know how much I have?" Cassandra's eyes flew wide, and he laughed at what he saw there: She _wanted_ to know, but was afraid to admit it. He motioned with his hand, indicating that she should move closer. The immortal bent, and whispered a number into her ear. With a sharp yelp of surprise, Cassandra fell back, clapping both of her hands over her mouth. She stared at her husband with round, astonished eyes.

"It's the truth," Jenkins said. "I've worked for the Library a very long time, and my material needs have been few. Between accumulating paychecks and ancestral lands that I still hold through various trusts, property that I've picked up over the centuries, like the Crown Jewels of Sarras—well, it all adds up over time." He shrugged his broad shoulders carelessly. Cassandra could barely absorb his words. She'd always suspected that he had a nice little nest egg tucked away somewhere for emergencies, but... _this_? Jenkins's "little" nest egg had turned out to be the size of North America!

"I have no problem with you wanting to keep your assets separate from mine if that's what you're comfortable with, none at all," he continued, oblivious to her shock. "But know this, Cassandra: It has _never_ entered my mind that you were only interested in my property or possessions. And to my mind, every single penny of the figure I just gave you is as much yours as it is mine. I've even taken the extraordinary step of having the necessary legal documents drawn up that make you my sole heir and beneficiary—just in case you should outlive me. The Library will see to it that my instructions are carried out."

Cassandra took one of his calloused hands in hers and looked down at it, her small fingers lightly stroking his Sealing ring for a long time, quiet.

"I know it sounds corny, Jenkins," she finally was able to say, but only in a whisper. "But I really don't care how rich or poor you are. All I want is _you_. That's all I've ever wanted. Just you." She looked up again, her blue eyes filled with tears, and smiled.

"So, for now anyway, I'm going to pretend that I didn't hear that number you whispered into my ear, 'cause right now, to be honest, I just can't get my head around it. Instead, I'm going to sit here and focus on our anniversary, and tell you that I think that _time_ is the best gift a person can give, and I would love to be able to spend a whole day with just you—no work, no research, no artifacts, no magic, no Library stuff, no distractions of any kind. Just _you_ , just Jenkins. Just my husband." Her smile broadened into a grin at the thought of being alone with him and talking, sharing thoughts and ideas, learning new things about each other—just like they were doing right now, even if sometimes the discoveries took one by surprise. Jenkins, for his part, felt his heart swell with love for this lovely, good-hearted, selfless woman.

"Then time is what you shall have, my love!" said the immortal as he placed his other hand over hers, content to leave a more in-depth conversation about their finances for another day. "We'll pack ourselves a nice picnic lunch, find ourselves some thick, comfy blankets, and we'll spend the day in the Heart of the Library, just the two of us. We'll walk and talk and eat and whatever else you wish!" Remembering his dream, he raised his head and gave his wife a rakish look, waggling his eyebrows. "And perhaps we might fit in some… _other_ _activities_ as well?"

Cassandra laughed, relieved that he hadn't taken any offense at her words. "Oh, I _definitely_ insist on 'other activities'!" She unexpectedly leaned forward and laid her hand against his face. Her lips brushed his and then hesitated only a second before making full contact. She kissed him briefly, then held her face back from his, not touching but close enough that she could feel the warmth of his skin on her lips. She kept her eyes closed as she let the moment hang between them for a few seconds, savoring the anticipation. When she was ready she darted forward to catch his lower lip gently between her teeth, nipping lightly before moving into a long, slow, deep kiss. Cassandra could feel his heart begin to pound against her body, and a quick, light sweep of her hand told her that his heart wasn't her husband's only organ that was becoming aroused.

"And I think we should definitely rehearse our 'other activities' before our 'official' outing tomorrow," she giggled softly into his mouth. "Just to make sure we're in practice and ready? It's our first anniversary after all!" She felt Jenkins's lips spread into a grin as his arms wound around her to hold her tightly against his body, one hand stealing underneath her pajama top to lightly stroke her naked back and making her shiver deliciously against him.

"Indeed," he murmured enthusiastically, stealing a quick kiss. "One can _never_ have too much practice when it comes to 'other activities', especially for such an important milestone!"


End file.
